Noa sat back in his chair, his eyes tracking Vionette's every movement with the unblinking, satisfied focus of a cat that had just been handed a bowl of cream.
Man… I'm glad we made these new outfits.
Seeing her in the military-style hat and the fitted corset was like watching a masterwork come to life. To him, she looked like the ultimate 'final boss' of a high-budget anime.
Noticing the weight of his stare, Vionette turned toward him. Her crimson eyes lingered on his face, softening by a rare, private warmth that replaced the piercing cold she reserved for the rest of the world. She reached out with her gloved hand, her fingers grazing the air before she firmly grabbed his cheek.
"Don't look too intensely," she murmured, her lips curving into a ghost of a smirk. "You'll be mistaken for a creep."
Noa didn't pull away; instead, he leaned into the squish, his own gaze dropping to admire the way the light caught the silver buttons of her uniform.
"Then that makes the two of us, right?"
He noted that while she was scolding him, her own eyes weren't actually looking at his face anymore—they were roaming over the sharp lines of his own coat, checking out how the crimson shirt and black tie suited him.
"I guess so. Got a problem with that?" she challenged, her voice dropping into a playful, dangerous register.
"None." Noa smirked arrogantly, the squished state of his cheeks doing nothing to dampen his ego. "I am handsome, after all. It's only natural you can't look away."
"Ahah…" Vionette leaned closer to him, her scent—a mix of roses—filling his senses.
Can't deny him though, she thought, her internal monologue admitting defeat to his vanity.
She pulled back just enough to maintain a semblance of professional distance, though her hand lingered a second too long on his skin.
"By the way, how did you know Elina was going to join us?"
Noa was reminded of the time when Vionette had ordered Lucien to commission an extra outfit before they had even left for Eryndor.
"Well… I was going to recruit her in any way possible, that's why." She closed her eyes, looking regal and cunning. "No wounded dragon will just stay there, in a forest near humans, without a reason. I knew she'd have nowhere else to go. Though thankfully, we didn't have to go that far because she just joined without any resistance."
Noa gave her a side-eye, tilting his head. He wanted a bit of credit for his role in the 'recruitment' process.
"I welcome compliments, you know."
"Oh yeah? How about something else instead?" Vionette teased him.
"Huh? What?"
While the two were flirting with each other in their own little bubble, the ones watching from the right were having the time of their lives. To them, the impending war was a distant thought compared to the live-action rom-com unfolding at the head of the table.
"The two of them really need to be more private," Elina whispered, leaning toward Lina with a grin.
"I know, right?" Lina giggled, covering her mouth with her white-gloved hand.
The two girls sat together like siblings, if one ignored the vibrant pink hair and the obsidian dragon horns protruding through Elina's hat. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together; despite the species gap, they had become inseparable friends during the short trek to Eryndor.
"Hey, big sis Elina," Lina said, changing the subject. "Have you ever been to a war before?"
Elina looked at her, her eyes widening in surprise for a heartbeat before she smiled proudly, lifting her chin until her horns caught the light. She felt a surge of ego at being called 'big sister'. It was a title she intended to live up to.
"Heheheh-No!" Though she looked as proud as a veteran general, her answer was the complete opposite.
"…Ok." A single bead of sweat formed at Lina's temple.
Opposite to them, Lucien and Kaelen were conducting their own quiet analysis of the room's interior, chatting like old friends at a cafe rather than soldiers in a war room.
"It really is a merchantry kingdom after all." Lucien remarked, his eyes roaming over the gold leafing and the expensive silk tapestries that lined the walls.
"Yeah, now I don't feel so bad for earning all that money two days ago," Kaelen replied, thinking of the heavy pouch of gold they'd secured.
He sat with an imposing, commander-like posture, but his eyes were relaxed as he talked with Lucien.
While the inner circle acted like they were on a holiday, Duke Korneas sat next to them, drowning in a whirlpool of anxiety and confusion.
What is happening? It's reported that she killed Carvan, accusing him of betrayal. What is going on in that woman's head?
To make things worse, Gemsh isn't present either. Did something happen to him too?
He looked around the room, his mind racing.
Can we really win this war without Eryndor's direct military help?
How did a dragon come here? Why is Noa's family—that little girl—here? And why are they all wearing those matching outfits?
Searching for an anchor, Korneas looked at Valric, hoping to see a spark of understanding. Instead, he saw a mirror of his own confused, terrified face.
The tension was broken by the sound of boots on stone as Roswell and Livora finally crossed the threshold into the Map Room. They stood frozen for a moment, taking in the sight of the Crimvane representatives.
Vionette and Noa finally broke their private 'conversation,' their heads turning in perfect unison to face the King of Eryndor.
"What are you doing, King Roswell? Please, sit down so we can begin," Vionette said, her voice reclaiming its royal authority.
Roswell, whose gaze had been hopelessly locked onto Elina's horns, snapped back to reality at the sound of Noa's voice.
"Ah, yes. My apologies."
He regained his kingly posture, though his movements were slightly stiff as he stepped forward to take his seat. Livora followed him, her expression a mask of forced indifference, and sat facing Noa and Vionette at the far end of the long table.
"Now that we are all gathered," Vionette began, her voice echoing through the silent room like a gavel. "Let us begin the council for the war between Crimvane and Aurelyth."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The lighthearted flirting and the casual side-chats died in an instant, replaced by a silence so heavy it felt like a physical weight. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, drawing toward Vionette as she leaned forward.
"As I always prefer, please voice any lingering questions you have," she stated, before her eyes snapped toward Valric. "Wait! Before that... Where is Gemsh?"
Valric's expression turned grim. "Your Majesty, Gemsh's knights reported that he departed from their company shortly before arriving here. Since then, there has been no trace of him. Something must have happened."
"Oh~?" Vionette leaned her chin on her interlaced fingers, her eyes glinting with a secret amusement.
This was your plan, Gemsh? Ara, this has become even easier than I anticipated.
Behind the curtain of her composed face, Vionette was smiling brightly. She saw the board for what it was.
He quickly escaped to Aurelyth to secure his own protection, hoping to leave a vacuum behind. By being absent, his knights will naturally be relegated to the rear because no one can command them with authority. Then, at the height of the battle, he can smoothly break our formation from behind.
Furthermore, now that the news of Carvan's death is spreading, the nobles will suspect me for his disappearance as well. If they are loyal to me, they will suspect each other, believing a traitor is among them. No matter the outcome, it creates the internal conflict he craves.
"Don't worry. I know exactly where Gemsh is," she said, her voice warm and reassuring, though her eyes remained cold and malicious. "Until his return, his knights will be placed as the rear lines. Now, please, begin your questions."
Hmm! A duke has already deserted. They are going to lose for sure, Livora thought, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
She raised a hand, her voice sharp and condescending.
"I have a question. Vionette, who is this child? Why is a child present at a war council?" She leveled a stern, judgmental look at Lina.
Lina didn't flinch. She didn't have to. She was flanked by two calamities that had recently flattened a city; the gaze of a mere queen was nothing compared to the aura Noa radiated daily. She simply looked back at Livora with a playful, smug smile that said more than words ever could.
Noa saw the reaction and felt a swell of sibling pride.
She really is my sister, after all.
"Don't worry about her, Livora." He spoke up before Vionette could, his voice arrogant and sharp. "She's my sister, Lina. She's here to learn. She'll be attending an academy soon, and having experience is good, no?" He raised his eyebrows, challenging her to disagree.
Livora bit her tongue, realizing that any further insult toward the girl would likely result in her mouth being physically removed from her face.
Roswell felt the killing intent radiating from Noa and quickly gave Livora a sharp, warning nudge to the back.
"Of course, of course," Roswell interjected with a strained smile. "The young must learn. We don't mind her presence at all. Please, continue."
Vionette waited for another question, but the room remained as silent as a tomb.
"Very well. On to the main topic."
She picked up a small, heavy piece of red-painted wood and placed it on the map spread across the table.
"According to our scouts, the Aurelyth forces are currently concentrated here."
The piece landed on the expansive plains that served as the only viable route between Aurelyth and Eryndor.
"So they will arrive in approximately three days," Kaelen calculated, his mind already running through the logistics of the march.
"Yes. And they possess an army that is, at a minimum, twice the size of our total combined forces," Vionette added, dropping several more red pieces onto the map.
She arranged them into a Hammer Formation—a brutal, crushing strike design. The center was thick with heavy infantry and Royal Knights, designed to shatter the enemy line, while wings of cavalry stood ready to squeeze the life out of any survivors. Behind them, mages and archers formed a wall of long-range destruction.
"Double your numbers? Are you truly certain you can win this?" Roswell asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the overwhelming red sea on the map.
"Don't worry about the numbers, King Roswell." Vionette didn't even look up.
She began placing blue pieces onto the map, arranging them into a Winged Formation. It was a design that spread the army into two wide, flanking wings, leaving a strong but seemingly vulnerable central core to hold the enemy in place.
"The center will consist of our heavy infantry, the Royal Knights, and the troops provided by the Dukes," she said, her eyes turning toward Kaelen. "This core will be led by you, Kaelen."
Kaelen stood and bowed with a confidence that seemed to vibrate in the air.
"Understood, Lady Vionette." The chance to prove his worth through sweat and steel had finally arrived.
"The left and right wings will be composed of our cavalry and lighter, faster infantry," she continued, sliding more pieces into place.
"Are they there to surround them?" Lina asked, her small face scrunched in concentration. Beside her, Elina nodded, trying to follow the flow of the battle.
"Yes, sweetie. They are positioned to flank the enemy as they commit to the center, or to counter any attempts they make to surround us," Vionette explained, her voice softening into a warm, sisterly tone for a brief second before she turned back to the tactical map. "The mages will provide ranged support from behind the main lines, while the healers will be positioned even further back, protected by the reserve units—Gemsh's knights—guarding our rear."
A sudden, sharp silence fell over the room.
"But Your Majesty," Duke Korneas whispered, his voice trembling. "Crimvane... we don't have any healers." He wiped a bead of sweat from his cheek.
Everyone in the room knew the truth: a war without healers was a death sentence. And they had already declined Eryndor's help. They thought Vionette was babbling dreams, blinded by her own ego.
"And there is another matter," Livora added, her voice smug. "Information from the border suggests Aurelyth has equipped their front lines with Relic Grade equipment forged from their ores. What do you intend to do against an army of iron giants?"
Relic Grade? Korneas was stunned into silence.
There's no way we can win, Valric thought, his mind already calculating the quickest route for a peaceful surrender.
While the dukes drowned in despair and Roswell prepared to offer his 'assistance' at a steep price, Vionette let out a small, airy laugh.
"C'mon, you guys are worrying far too much," she said, her voice filled with a terrifying confidence. "Rose, come in."
The heavy doors creaked open once more. Rose entered with her usual stoic grace, but following behind her was a figure that made Noa's so called 'god killing' sword.
"Yes, Lady Vionette," Rose said, opening her ledger with a crisp snap of paper. "All thirty healers have been positioned and briefed. Furthermore, mid Relic Grade armor has been distributed to every knight in the vanguard. High Relic Grade armor and weapons have been provided to every member of the Royal Knights."
"All of it is in perfect, lethal quality," Marnok added with a jagged smirk from behind his goggles. "Some of the high-end sets have even been enhanced by some dragon parts."
"???"
The room was paralyzed with disbelief. Somehow, Crimvane now had a full corps of healers, and their entire army was outfitted in gear that shouldn't exist in such quantities.
With those two, anything can happen. Lucien closed his eyes and smiled. The faith he had placed in Noa and Vionette was starting to manifest hope into reality.
What? How did she bring healers? Korneas was doubting his own ears. The 'arrogant' princess was making him lose all composure.
High Relic Grade equipment for all the Royal Knights? When did we get those? Valric looked at Marnok, then remembered Lucien's words from two days ago.
'Father, you don't have to worry. Those two will somehow find a way.'
Somewhere far away, in the dark corners of the kingdom, Carvan was likely receiving the same reports, his heart sinking as he realized the board had changed.
Just as Vionette intended when she started the war, the first fragile seed of faith had finally taken root within the dukes.